Fate is Not a False Alarm
by dempseydevotee
Summary: “It was eight years ago.” The stifling room suddenly seemed very, very small.“Eight years ago.” A hollow voice filled the room, claiming every corner of the space. Derek Shepherd comes to terms with his guilt. But will he be able to move on?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Please Review! The song is 'False Alarm', sung by Kt Tunstall.

Disclaimer: I own zilch of Grey's Anatomy, Kt Tunstall or anything related.

"It was eight years ago."

The stifling room suddenly seemed very, very small.

"Eight years ago." A hollow voice filled the room, claiming every corner of the space. That voice seemed strange; unrecognizable. It was a voice that had not been used in a long time.

He sat there, motionless, numbness engulfing his entire body.

"We were young. We had our careers to think about, and we didn't want to rush into anything. Especially—especially something like that."

Those words pierced him like a scalpel, cutting right into his body, and tearing straight through his heart.

"So we got rid of it." Guilt. It had such a strong hold on him; so strong that it wouldn't let him go.

I'm trying to put this thing to bed 

_I've drugged it in its sleep_

_There isn't many memories_

_I'm comfortable to keep_

He still remembered that night. When he'd found her, sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around herself, face stone cold. She had looked so pale; so dead. Emotionless, like she'd lost a part of herself, a piece that could never be regained.

"I had a miscarriage." A baby. She'd lost a baby. They'd lost a baby. Vaguely, he thought about the baby, had she been in their lives. Would they be happy?

"The next day, I got up. I got up, and I went to work. Pretending that everything was okay; that I was okay. But there was this hole, a part of me missing. No one could see it. And I didn't know how or what to do to fill it."

This ball keeps rolling on 

_It's heading for the streets_

_Keep expecting you to send for me_

_The invitation never comes_

Silence penetrated the walls of the room. Silence filled him with fear. He wasn't brave enough to break that bitter silence.

"We never talked about it. We'd both decided it was for the best by then. The baby," Her voice caught painfully, "the baby would have been neglected. But sometimes-sometimes I wonder whether…I'd killed her, somehow. That's what made me decide to be a neo-natal surgeon. I know it sounds foolish, but I thought I could compensate for the loss, make up for the mistake I made years ago."

"A hole that perhaps could be filled. My child…I just remember feeling her inside of me, growing day by day..." A sob tried to escape her throat, but she choked it back. "Still, I resented her – just that little bit." Addison lowered her voice.

"I realized that I loved her, but by that time, she was gone." She despised that word. Gone meant never coming back. "And Derek and I grew apart…because I was so selfish. I wanted him to forgive me, but really, I couldn't forgive myself." Addison stated simply, hands outstretched in her lap.

In the far distance, he heard another, a different voice murmur. But it was too far away from him. All he knew was that those words were wrong. So wrong it was almost unbearable. He wanted to scream. And shout, protest, he knew he should.

It was wrong. She was wrong. But he couldn't. His voice had failed him.

All his words and thoughts were unspoken. Buried, deep down inside of him, emotions and feelings and words that he knew could never surface.

Each time I turn around 

_There's nothing there at all_

_So tell me why I feel like_

_I'm up against a wall_

"Years passed." Her voice filtered through to him again. "By then, we were so dedicated to work, communication was impossible. I was working long hours; he was busy at his hospital. And the anger piled up. Small things. But it led to anger. We shared a house, but it seemed like neither of us was living in it. We were strangers to each other, and ourselves. Even when we were there, ignoring each other seemed the best option. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore."

She stopped, for a split second, she faltered. It had taken all her strong will to get this far. If she gave up now, their relationship would only suffer for it.

"Mark tried to understand what I was going through. He tried to be unbiased. He told me it wasn't my fault," She didn't know why, but she laughed bitterly at that.

Maybe because it was a lie. She always could tell when someone was lying.

"He wasn't using me. I wasn't using him. I was lonely. That's…why."

At last, she turned to him. Her eyes were desperate, pleading for him to understand her feelings. He was sitting motionless, his features blank and frozen, showing no sign of emotion or anger.

"I was lonely. I needed someone to hold me. And touch me. I was lonely, Derek."

But maybe it's a false alarm 

_And all the answers sound the same_

_Just colours bleeding into one_

_That doesn't have a name_

_Maybe I can't see_

_Maybe it's just me_

Then, all her pretense of control fell apart. Silent, salty tears fell fast and hard down her cheek. She did not reach up and wipe them away. Instead, they provided her harsh comfort.

He didn't speak. He made no move to even look at her. It was as if she had just slapped him. Her fraught, painful words were beating him up inside. Derek had never considered himself anything less than a man. But whenever he was with her, or spoke to her, he felt like the harshness and resentment was just building up a gigantic wall between them. It shielded him from confronting his guilt.

Derek didn't know why he treated Addison with such contempt. Maybe because he was struggling to deal with his own burdening weight of remorse.

Now the curtain's coming up 

_The audience is still_

_I'm struggling to cater for_

_The space I'm meant to fill_

_And distance doesn't care_

_Each time I turn around_

_Maybe it's a false alarm_

Derek couldn't speak, because all her words rang true. He was stupid, negligent, unsympathetic, unforgiving. He had driven her to Mark. He'd caused the death of their baby. Yet for years, he had convinced himself she was to blame.

Derek had convinced _her_ shewas the one to blame. When, really, he was only trying to convince himself that he wasn't to blame. That he was not the 'evil' one.

The drive home was agonizing. Addison had insisted that she drive. He had agreed, seeing as he was switched on autopilot. All his answers and movements were automatic, robotic. His anger, anger at himself, was gnawing away at his insides. It was a raging sea and couldn't be calmed, no matter how hard he tried to silence the rage.

It was simmering. He provoked it, added fuel to his unexhausted fire.

"Do you remember that day, Derek?" She asked, quietly. She didn't want to hear his answer. He didn't reply. He just kept on staring out the window, past the blurry shapes. There was an outlandish empty feeling inside of him. A hole, he distinctly recalled Addison's hurt words. Was that the empty feeling inside of him?

Was that the feeling of emptiness inside of him? A hole, in bleak, cold darkness - that couldn't be filled.

_I'm trying to put this thing to bed_

_I drugged it in its sleep_

_Remember what you said_

_Are you comfortable to keep it?_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I don't usually write Derek/Addison, but it fitted well so I kept with it. Please review! I really appreciate them, thank you.

_In memory of my dear departed sister. I miss you each and every day._

"I asked you. I asked you if it was a false alarm." He was surprised to hear his own voice responding to hers.

Silence overcame them. Derek realized that he had been holding his breath.

"You said you knew. I remember you sounded so sure, yet so scared at the same time. I remember, thinking, are you comfortable to keep it? Then my wish,"

He broke off, hurt and sadness filling him up, so rapidly he felt like a balloon about to burst with emotions, "came true."

Addison remained still. Her eyes welled with unshed tears. Slowly, she reached out and touched his hand with hers. She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes, and she squeezed his hand, curled up in hers, tightly.

"We shouldn't blame ourselves, Derek. It wasn't meant to happen. It was fate. Fate is not a false alarm."

Then, he didn't know how or why, after so many years; but all his inner feelings, of anger and guilt and hurt, spilled out. Feelings that he'd kept buried deep inside of him were out in the open. It was like a wound that had not healed, but was soothed. Addison didn't talk, but she listened.

"Katie…she would have been so beautiful. Just like her mother." Derek managed to say with a twisted smile.

"I felt resentful. It was bitterly ironic. I resented her for existing, and then I resented her for dying. For leaving us behind, for causing that huge rift between us."

The harsh laugh tore his throat and he welcomed the pain. Turning from her, Derek coiled his hands into a fist.

"Don't you understand, Addie?" He asked tonelessly. His eyelids rubbed his eyes like sandpaper. He couldn't cry. He'd used up his quota of tears for Katie years ago. Blindly, he rubbed at his eyes.

Addison shook her head. "It wasn't – " She began.

"Mostly I resented her because I cared too much for her already. Her departure left such a great imprint in my heart. I couldn't rub it away, though I tried so desperately." He continued in despair. Derek finally looked her in the eye and something in his eyes destroyed her.

"I'm sorry, Addie." Derek said at last. "I'm sorry, I wasn't there. The truth is; I didn't know how to cope. And I thought I shouldn't try to consol you until I knew how to deal with everything. You thought you were the selfish one."

Addison smiled through the tears overflowing down her cheek. Derek leaned over and brushed them away.

"What I did – it's no worse than if I'd held a gun to her head and shot her." Derek said shakily.

"I know you. I know you would've loved her. You stopped yourself from falling down. I should've been the one to catch you. I should've known what to do." He said numbly. It was like he had been trying to put ice on his wound to heal the pain. It lessened the hurt, but time. Time had allowed him to understand his emotions.

"Derek," Addison whispered, "she's okay. I didn't want her either. Don't you think I haven't been feeling devastated all this time? I carried her inside of me for all of her life. I convinced myself I didn't love her. But it's over. She's gone. She wasn't meant to be."

Derek swallowed. It was still too much to bear. What could've been and what should've been – two very different possibilities. "I know." He said hoarsely.

"I believe in fate, Addison. What's meant to be will be. We have to remember that, and let it go, so we can both move on." Derek looked sadly at her. They both knew their fate was sealed. Fate. It had brought them together, and now would bring them back as one.

The wind howled. Addison Shepherd pulled her coat tighter around her body and glanced around at her surroundings.

Derek slowly reached for her hand and held it tenderly in his. He would never let go of her hand again.

"Are you ready?" He asked her nervously.

Addison exhaled slowly. "Yes," She said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Side by side, they walked past the gates of the cemetery and went to find her.

Addison's eyes welled as she read the inscription:

_Wait for us there, Katie. We'll meet again in heaven._

_Katie Rose Shepherd_

_Died August 17, 1999_

Addison cried softly into Derek's shoulder. He stood there silently mourning, and then steadily wrapped his arms around a sobbing Addison. A moment of utter stillness drifted pass.

"I love you, Katie." He said at last, his voice strangly quiet.

"Do you think she knows, Derek?" Addison murmured.

Derek nodded, after a moment. "She knows, Addie. It wasn't goodbye."

That thought warmed Addison. Gone. She'd always hated that word. Gone meant never coming back. Katie wasn't gone. She was still alive in their thoughts and memories. A haunting flicker of a smile appeared on her delicately worn features, but it disappeared in a blink.

"Fate is not a false alarm." She repeated softly, to herself. It had gradually become her mantra.

Derek held her closer to him. Together, they walked out of the cemetery and into the real world.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to.Being in each other's presence was enough.Addison knew she'd always remember that day. Although Addison knew it wasn't the end, she still came back to Katie's 'resting place' for many years to come. She couldn't explain when, and shedidn't know how, but that hole inside of her– it was filled by the joy Derek had brought into her life. It had been filled knowing they both forgave and loved each other. It had been filled realising that goodbye is never the end.

It was filled by the birth of their daughter, Charlotte Rose Shepherd.

It was filled when she eventually, after such a long wait, understood that fate is not a false alarm.


End file.
